


Icarus

by TheFreakZone



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24008470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFreakZone/pseuds/TheFreakZone
Summary: Arthur has been on his own for the last few centuries and it’s gone well so far. But one day he meets Antonio, who is more than he lets on, and his curiosity (rapidly leaning towards infatuation) will have him become part of a family that is certainly strange.
Relationships: England/Spain (Hetalia)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 72





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me in a dream. Well, not THIS. Just the thought that two particular mythological/folklorical/pop-cultural creatures would make an interesting couple. And then my brain was like, "make it SpUK", and who am I to say no to my brain?
> 
> No warnings for now, but rating may go up. Quite possibly.
> 
> Hope you like it! n_n

**ICARUS**

ONE

Madrid's nightlife is amazing.

The whole city is alive, the music from bars and clubs pulsing through her like a heartbeat; the people are cheerful as they drink and dance and flirt, worries out and joy in. The festive atmosphere is everywhere, on the streets and in the establishments, a trademark no less important than the museums and statues.

Arthur loves it.

It adds another layer to the thrill of the hunt.

He takes his time, because the night is young and he's in no hurry. Age and experience have tamed his animalistic instincts, honed him into the precise hunter he is today, and when his younger self would have struck without thinking, he now observes and waits. He's perfected the art of choosing his victim.

Oh, and he's _lucky_ tonight.

A man. Young, alone, away from the crowds. Good-looking, which is always a plus. Looks like the kind who won't mind going home with a handsome stranger. Not that it matter if he minds, because Arthur can easily change that.

He charges in.

"What's a beauty like you doing here all alone?"

The man flinches, taken by surprise, and when he turns to look at him there's a startled smile on his lips and a faint blush on his cheeks.

"Just—breathing some air," he answers. The smile grows more comfortable on his face as he runs a hand through his chocolate, curly hair. His eyes gleam green under his bangs. "I tend to appreciate compliments more when I know who's paying them."

"I'm Arthur. I tend to appreciate being complimented back."

"You don't look absolutely ridiculous in that outfit."

" _Hey_ ," he protests, his offence only partially faked. He puts a lot of effort into his appearance — being attractive makes the hunting much easier — and so far, the punk aesthetic has never failed him. "At least give me your name before you attack me like that."

"You can call me Antonio."

"Okay, Antonio, here's the offer — since you don't like my attire, you accompany me back to my flat and help me out of it. How does that sound?"

Antonio laughs loud and unapologetically. "Terrible," he replies, and when his laughter dies, he adds in a more serious tone: "Any other day I might have said yes," he says, "honestly. But the truth is, I haven't been home in a while and I'd like to go back tonight. My housemates might worry."

Too bad.

Arthur's disappointed sigh is not entirely feigned. It's always easier when they come willingly. Not a situation he can't deal with, though. He just needs…

"Can I at least get a kiss?" he asks, playing the coy card.

Antonio is clearly taken aback by the upfront move, but he's not shy about it either, and there's a funny glint in his eyes when he locks his gaze with Arthur.

That settles it.

Hypnosis is not Arthur's favourite trick — it's a bit cheap for someone who takes pride in his hunting skills — but he's good at it. Practice makes perfect, and Arthur has had a long time to practice. A _very_ long time.

"I think you will change your mind," he says, his voice mellow. "I think you want to come with me."

"N-No," Antonio mumbles back. Oh, he's a stubborn one. "I need to go back," he insists, although there's hesitance in his voice.

Arthur decides to change tactics.

If he puts more willpower into his hypnosis, he _will_ get Antonio to follow him, but seeing how he's resisting him now, the risk of it fading on the way home is too great. And although Arthur loves a challenge, he's also grown to appreciate the easy.

His gaze burns deeper into Antonio's eyes.

"Sleep," he orders.

Antonio collapses.

Arthur catches him easily before he hits the ground. With the way his head falls to the side, Antonio's neck is completely exposed, and Arthur can practically hear the blood flowing through the veins under the tan skin. It almost makes him salivate.

He's caught a good one.

* * *

As Antonio comes back to his senses, the first thing he notices is a sharp pain on his wrists. The second, the gag in his mouth.

The first thought that crosses his head is that this is so inconvenient.

He needs to go back home. Gilbert and Francis know better than to worry, but the rest… Feli. Matt. _Lovino_. They need him. He must go back.

He can't go back.

He can't move.

Ah, yes. His hands are bound. He's hung from the ceiling by his wrists — that explains the pain. His feet barely touch the floor, his shoulders are strained.

How has he ended up like this?

He still feels groggy, but forces his mind to rewind.

Green.

He remembers green.

Green eyes and a sweet voice.

Oh. Hypnosis.

That fucking punk…

Arthur. His name was Arthur.

What is he? Not human, clearly.

Antonio groans. His head still isn't clear enough to make a list of all the hypnotic creatures he knows.

"Awake already?" a voice says — Arthur's voice — tinted with just a hint of admiration. Or maybe shock. "You really are something else."

His vision is blurry, but Antonio somehow manages to make sense of his surroundings: a basement, he thinks, although it's too dark to tell properly.

He's not fond of the dark.

Arthur irrupts into his field of vision and Antonio flinches, instinctively trying to get away from him, but even if the restraints around his wrists didn't hold him in place, the hand on his jaw definitely would.

Shit, that's a strong grip.

And _shit_ , he's _cold_.

"Are you scared of me?" Arthur asks, amused. "You're right to be."

Antonio puts all the pieces together — hypnosis, dark places, cold body — only seconds before two sharp fangs sink into his neck.

* * *

**Vampire**

_A creature that subsists by feeding on the vital essence of the living, generally in the form of blood._

* * *

Arthur doesn't drink Antonio dry straight away, of course not. A healthy human male like him ought to last for at least a couple nights. He's drunk about a litre of his blood, which is only twice as much as they extract for donations — not enough to kill him, because they're always tastier when they're fresh, but the right amount to keep him drowsy and unproblematic. There are few things men can do when they're missing a whole litre of blood, and they can be summed up by "sit down".

Men who are missing a whole litre of blood shouldn't be able to do pull-ups.

And yet that's exactly what Antonio is doing when Arthur returns to his basement after having gone for a fly.

Arthur watches, flabbergasted, as Antonio pulls his own body up and down with little effort, the ropes that were meant to keep him in place reduced to a stupid gym machine. He seems to be moving by pure inertia, his thoughts somewhere else judging by the expression on his face, and Arthur almost feels insulted by how _bored_ he looks.

It takes Antonio a moment to notice him standing there, but when he does, he grins around the gag.

" _Hewwo, Awrfur,_ " he greets, his words muffled. Arthur can't understand a single word he says after those two.

"Shut up," he growls. In two fast strides, he's in front of Antonio and rips the gag from his mouth.

"Thanks," Antonio smiles. He opens and closes his mouth, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I'm not going to ask where _that_ has been before, but it could really use a wash. Or two."

"You're not human."

"Look who's talking."

"You look human, though. You _taste_ human." Arthur narrows his eyes in suspicion. "What are you?"

" _Bored_ , that's what. Do you have any idea how long I've been hanging here?"

"About an hour."

Antonio considers it for a moment. "Okay, that felt longer," he concedes. "Still. I would have expected you to treat me better," he pouts.

Arthur's glare sharpens. "I should have bled you dry."

"And here I thought I was likable…" Antonio sighs. "Hey, have you seen a Dullahan lately?"

"A what?"

"Dullahan."

"Those are real?"

"You're a fucking vampire, are you seriously asking me if Dullahan are real?"

Arthur shrugs. "I've never met any. Why?"

"I'm looking for one. My housemate's brother."

"Your housemate's a Dullahan?"

"One of them, yes. Which reminds me — they're waiting for me and I'm running late, thank you very much. Now, I _could_ free myself, if I wanted to," he smiles at Arthur, his head tilted to the side, "but I thought I'd give you the benefit of the doubt and the chance to do it yourself."

Arthur isn't sure how to describe the feeling that travels down his spine. It's like a sixth sense, a warning — Antonio isn't bluffing. He's dangerous; or, he _can_ be. His words are polite and his smile is innocent, but there's something in his eyes that almost scares him.

Almost.

"You talk too much," Arthur snaps, but he goes to untie the ropes around Antonio's wrists. A quick glance to the other's neck confirms what he suspected: there's dry blood, but no trace of his bite.

Regenerative powers aren't that big of a clue, though. They're almost a common trait — every living thing can, to a certain degree, heal and regenerate injuries. And non-humans are particularly good at that.

"Thank you," Antonio chirps when he's finally free. The ropes have left red marks on his wrists, but he doesn't pay them any attention. "I'll leave now. My family must be worried."

"Family? I thought you lived with housemates."

"Semantics."

Arthur doesn't move when Antonio walks past him as he heads to the door. What _is_ he? Not a fellow vampire, that much he knows. Or a werewolf — Arthur would have smelled him miles away if he were a werewolf.

He's curious.

Way more curious than he's willing to admit.

"There's room for you in our place," Antonio says then, startling him. He's standing by the door, looking back at the room with a critical look. "I mean, I'm sure you love the dark and gloomy—no offense—but if you fancy a bigger place with more weirdoes… Well, feel free to join us."

Arthur snorts.

Joining a gang of who knows how many other non-humans is far from being appealing. He likes being alone. He's been on his own ever since he was turned, and it's worked out just fine.

However…

His eyes find Antonio.

Antonio, that curious being who looks human but isn't. No fangs, no claws, no horns, no wings… Looks human, feels human, tastes human.

_What are you? What could you possibly be?_

They do say that curiosity killed the cat.

Then again, Arthur is harder to kill than a cat.

"Okay," he says.

Antonio smiles wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Antonio is mysterious~ I'll be taking bets on what creature he is :P No, but seriously, feel free to theorize on the comments, because it's one of my favourite things ever! n_n
> 
> Now, um, I suppose this is going to be all short chapters. Maybe. Idk. I don't have much of a plan for this n_n"
> 
> Anyway. Feedback is much appreciated! :D


	2. TWO

**ICARUS**

TWO

Antonio's house is on the outskirts.

It's not particularly big — although definitely bigger than Arthur's basement — but it's secluded, the nearest neighbours being at the end of a long street. The house has two stories and a small yard; and it being at the edge of civilization, it stands next to a small forest.

Not a bad place for discretely housing a bunch of non-human creatures.

It's very late in the night when Arthur lands in front of it. (Antonio has made him fly them both there, as compensation for having kidnapped and fed on him.) There are no lampposts around and it's very dark; something that's the opposite of a problem for Arthur, but seems to be troublesome for Antonio — he trips more than once on the short way to the front door.

Interesting.

Arthur adds it to the list: _Regenerative powers. Can't see in the dark._

"Home, sweet home," Antonio smiles as he moves to open the door. But he stops just as his fingers touch the doorknob, and although his smile doesn't falter when he turns to look at Arthur, there's a warning in his eyes. "I'm going to invite you inside," he says. "Feel free to move around the house and meet the different creatures who live here. But know that I consider them all family — and generally I'm not in favour of violence, but if it's for them, I won't hesitate."

Arthur can't help but grin. "What are you trying to say?" he asks, amused.

"I'm not _trying_ ; I'm straight-up threatening you," Antonio replies, unwavering. "I'm trusting you now, but if you step out of line — if you hurt, harm, or even badmouth a single one of them — I want you to know that I _can_ and _will_ kill you."

"Fair warning," Arthur nods, raising his hands in an appeasing fashion.

As it is now, he doesn't want Antonio as his enemy.

"Glad we cleared that up," Antonio grins, cheerful, as he finally pushes the door open. "Welc—"

" _Toño!_ "

Antonio can't finish his line — a small body collides against him, knocking all the air out of his lungs, and it takes Arthur a moment to realize that the attack is actually a hug. The attacker looks like a human child, not much older than ten.

"Hello, Lovino," says Antonio, good-humouredly.

"Where _were_ you?" the boy screams against Antonio's chest. "You said you'd be back _hours_ ago but you didn't show up and I was waiting for you and I was so _worried_ and _scared_ and—"

"Hey, hey, hey." Everything about Antonio is gentle when he frees himself from the constricting hug and kneels to be at eye level with the kid. "It's okay, Lovi, I'm fine. See?"

Lovino sniffs, then pouts and starts checking all of Antonio's body for injuries.

And he's more than _fine_ , Arthur thinks. The dry blood on his neck is gone, and so are the marks the rope had left on his wrists. In fact, he can't spot a single injury or scar on Antonio's exposed skin.

"Okay, you're alright," Lovino concludes, and he stops being upset to get angry instead. "But you're _late_!" he protests, stomping his foot.

"I know, Lovi, I'm so sorry," Antonio apologizes again, patient. "But I'm here now! No need to cry!"

" _I'm not crying!_ " Lovino protests, crying.

"Of course you're not," Antonio agrees, drying Lovino's tears off his cheeks. "I don't know why I thought—hey, Lovi, your skin is very dry!" he exclaims, worried, and his voice is soft when he asks: "Have you been out of the water all this time?"

Lovino sniffs again and nods.

It's a sweet scene, really. Tender, even. Antonio and Lovino evidently care a lot about the other, they almost look like father and son, and with the way they're looking at each other now it almost feels like they're having a wordless conversation. If Arthur were watching this on a movie, he might even shed a tear.

The problem is, he's not watching it on a movie. He's standing right there, feeling more awkward and out of place with every passing second. Is Antonio going to behave like this with everyone in the house? Arthur really hopes not.

It feels like ages until they finally move again.

Antonio smiles and quietly apologizes again for being late, then picks Lovino up. The boy mumbles a protest, but doesn't resist and hugs Antonio's neck when he stands up.

"Hey, Toño?" Lovino calls softly.

"Yes?"

"Who's that creepy-ass guy with the huge eyebrows?"

Arthur feels his eye twitch. Antonio's scandalous laughter doesn't help.

"That's Arthur, he's a new friend. He'll be staying with us for a while," Antonio answers between chuckles, then kisses Lovino's hair. "Come on, let's get you to the pool."

He walks into the house and Arthur follows, only a tad curious to see what's in store for him.

The house is quiet, empty, and the more Arthur sees of it, the more it feels like a temporary refuge and not a home. The furniture is very basic, there's hardly any decoration on the walls. It feels cold even to him.

Their destination is a somewhat big bedroom that has nothing but one of those large inflatable pools. Antonio deposits Lovino gently onto the water and the boy submerges gladly.

When he emerges, his legs have merged into a fish tail.

* * *

**Mermen**

_Legendary creatures that are male human from the waist up and fish-like from the waist down, but may assume normal human shape on land._

* * *

"Better?"

Lovino nods vigorously and Antonio smiles. He doesn't like playing favourites, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't adore the merboy.

Both of them, actually.

The water ripples and Feli's head surfaces beside his brother's, the sleep in his eyes vanishing when he sees Antonio.

"Tonio! You're back!" he laughs, going direct for a hug and unavoidably drenching Antonio.

"Of course I'm back," Antonio answers, not minding the water. "What, did you doubt me? I'm offended!"

Feli giggles and Lovi pouts.

They're the youngest of the family (eight and ten, respectively) and Antonio can't help it if he has a soft spot for them. He looks at them with their auburn hair and big, golden eyes and turquoise tails and he feels his heart melt. Being alluring is part of their nature, after all.

"Okay, guys, it's very late," he tells them. "Sorry we woke you up, Feli. Get some sleep, both of you."

The brothers nod, yawn and submerge without another word.

"What's with them?" Arthur asks the moment they leave the room.

"What do you mean?"

"We're five hundred kilometres away from any coast — why do you have two merman kids?"

Antonio stops in the middle of the corridor and turns to look at Arthur in the eye.

"Their parents were killed about two years ago. They're too young to survive on their own, so I take them with me wherever I go."

"Is that what you do? Rescue helpless non-human beings and travel with them?"

"Got a problem with that?"

"Not at all. I just…" He grins, flashing his fangs at Antonio. "I'd never heard of a _monster_ being so charitable before."

Antonio narrows is eyes at the term humans use for them, but smiles back at Arthur. "You hadn't met me," he replies.

"Fair enough," Arthur chuckles. "So, how many are there here?"

"A bunch," Antonio answers. "Or—there should be."

The truth is, the house has felt too empty since they arrived. And some of them are naturally inclined to hiding, but others aren't that discreet. Antonio can't help but worry a little. He's been gone for over a week — anything might have happened.

Luckily, he knows who to ask.

He motions for Arthur to follow him and makes a beeline to the kitchen.

"Ivan?" he calls as he knocks on the door.

There's a low, rumbling growl as a reply. Antonio chooses to interpret it as an invitation to come in. If nothing else, Arthur's startled yelp at seeing a bear dozing on the floor makes it worth it.

"Hello, Ivan," Antonio smiles as he kneels by his side. "I'm back. Where's everyone?"

The bear growls in awakening and swaps to his human form mid-yawn.

"Hello, Toñete," Ivan says sweetly. "It's good to have you back."

* * *

**Domovoy**

_Slavic household god who may manifest in the form of animals such as cats, dogs or bears._

* * *

Of all creatures, Arthur wasn't expecting a Domovoy. He thought they only protected human households. But if he's elected to watch over this particular family, then Antonio definitely has a powerful ally on his side.

As a human, the Domovoy is a corpulent man with light grey hair and deep violet eyes. Arthur feels slightly intimidated when he looks at him, which is more intimidated than he's used to.

"New friend?" Ivan asks.

"Sort of," Antonio answers. "This is Arthur. He's a vampire."

Ivan hums. "Will he be staying?"

"Only if it's alright with you," Arthur says before Antonio can.

"As long as you behave," Ivan shrugs and centres his attention on Antonio again. "You asked about the others." He scratches his temple. "Feliciano and Lovino are in their pool. Matthew is around there, too, either hiding or sleeping. Alfred is in the garden. Lars is somewhere in the house, but he's a tricky one to track. Emma went to the forest for a walk — to the creek, I assume."

"Okay, the little ones are alright," Antonio sighs, relieved. "What about Fran?"

"He left two days ago. To investigate. Said he'd be back in three days tops, so he should return tomorrow."

"Fine, he can take care of himself." He seems to hesitate for a moment before he adds: "Please tell me Gil didn't go with him."

"No, Gilbert said he'd stay to watch over the younglings while Francis and you were gone."

"Okay, then why isn't he—oh." Antonio seems to age twenty years in just a second. "Did Lars do it again?"

"Lars did it again," Ivan confirms with a nod.

Antonio groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'll talk to him in the morning," he grumbles. "Thanks, Ivan. And sorry I woke you up."

"No problem."

Ivan turns into a cat and disappears under the table.

Arthur grins. "Busy family?" he asks, allowing himself to sound a little mocking.

"You have no idea," Antonio sighs, resigned, but immediately returns to his joyful self. "Ah, all of them have this floor." He gestures vaguely around themselves; then points upwards. "I have the attic." His smile is the brightest when he points down. "You can have the basement."

* * *

The basement is dark and cold and empty.

Antonio supposes that's not a problem for Arthur.

"I noticed you had a bed back in your place, but I can't offer you anything of the sort," he apologizes awkwardly. He didn't think it through when he invited Arthur over.

"You're a lousy host," Arthur complains, although he doesn't sound half serious. "It's a damn good thing you're pretty."

" _Pretty_?" Antonio scoffs. "What happened to me being a _beauty_?"

"I reconsidered."

Antonio doesn't reply, too busy watching Arthur as he finds a pipeline on the ceiling and, after checking if it holds his weigh, hangs himself from it upside-down. It looks everything but comfortable to Antonio, but then Antonio is not part-bat, so he decides not to judge. What's more, he's considerate enough to throw the curtain over the small window on the corner.

He's about to leave when Arthur calls him again:

"Antonio."

"Yes?"

"Including me and the few that are gone, there are eleven non-humans living in this house."

"And?"

"I hope you realize that this is like a piñata for hunters — if someone finds out about you lot, things can get ugly."

Antonio smiles. "Thanks for the insight," he says. "I am aware."

Arthur only hums and Antonio leaves the basement.

Of course he knows they're a relatively easy target, he thinks to himself as he rushes to the attic. He's not a fool. He knows there are humans who train their whole lives to hunt them down; humans who have memorized every weakness of every creature. Humans who will see his diverse family as a chance to wipe out a bunch of _monsters_ all at once.

Antonio barges into the attic, his bedroom, and goes straight to his favourite spot: the window ledge. He sits on it and looks outside. The sky is starting to clear on the East — dawn is near.

Yes, Antonio knows their house is _a piñata for hunters_.

But the thing is, if anyone tries to hurt his family, they'll have to go through him first.

And he's not easy to go through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, I very much appreciate comments and theories :D Although I'm aware I've hardly given you any clues about Antonio so far n_n"


	3. THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than expected n_n" It's harder than I thought to write Antonio and Francis' POVs without dropping too many hints :P Anyway, hope you like this chapter!

**ICARUS**

THREE

* * *

**Leprechaun**

_Solitary faery who enjoys practical jokes and whose principal occupations are mending shoes and hoarding gold._

* * *

"For the last time, Lars — _stop doing that_."

Lars doesn't even bother looking at him, too occupied with his shoe. Antonio sighs. He's patient, a trait built after a long time of caring for multitude of different creatures, but Leprechauns push him to his limit. And a teenage Leprechaun? It might easily be the reason why he starts growing white hairs.

"Seriously, Lars," he insists. "It's already not funny when you do it on a regular day, but doing it when Gil is the only one who's home to watch over you?"

"Ivan was also here," Lars replies calmly.

"Ivan's job isn't taking care of the lot of you and you know that."

"And I do find it very funny."

Antonio closes his eyes, breathes deeply, counts to ten.

In general, Lars isn't particularly troublesome. Sure, he loves playing pranks on them, but they're usually harmless and good fun. Except with Gilbert. Antonio doesn't know if it's because Lars doesn't like Gilbert or just because he finds it particularly funny, but they haven't been able to make him stop.

And Gil is one bad day away from obliterating Lars.

"Lovino told me you brought someone else," the Leprechaun says then.

"Yes. A vampire. He's sleeping in the basement."

"Can I play pranks on him?"

"Why do you ask if you're going to do it anyway?"

"Ah, right," Lars chuckles.

In truth, Antonio doesn't know why Lars is still living with them. Every other Leprechaun he's ever 'adopted' left the moment they could fend for themselves, and Lars is already more than capable. Then again, the others hadn't been nearly devoured by a stray dog when they were little.

Antonio's eyes find the scar on Lars' forehead, right over his eye, a memento from the dog's fangs, and recalls how the young Leprechaun wept as he tended to his wounds.

And he can't help but wonder if, despite his solitary nature, Lars has developed some sort of attachment.

"Are you mad at me?" Lars asks, and although he doesn't stop smiling, Antonio thinks he hears a worried tone in his voice.

"No, I'm not mad," he sighs. "But Gil will be. Don't do it again in a while? Please?"

" _Hmmmmmmmmmmm_."

Time for Plan B.

"Alright, you sneaky Leprechaun," Antonio huffs. "I've got something for you, but you have to promise me you'll behave."

Lars' head snaps up and he looks at him, green eyes gleaming. He must already know what it is that Antonio has brought him. Easy guess, since he doesn't have many interests.

"Promise you'll behave?" Antonio asks, pulling a golden chain out of his pocket.

"Promise!" Lars exclaims, grabbing it so quickly Antonio can barely see him move, and the next second he's vanished without a trace.

Antonio blinks; it takes him a second to process that he's now sitting alone in the middle of their living room. "Okay, see you later," he says to the air, resigned.

He crosses _talk to Lars_ off his mental to-do list.

* * *

The morning passes without incidents.

Feli and Lovi leave their pool once to take a run around the house. Lars doesn't show himself again, probably too busy counting his gold. Matthew is in the pool, according to Feli. Emma still hasn't returned form her hike to the creek. Alfred is probably exploring neighbouring gardens.

Ivan spends most of his time dozing off as a cat. Arthur sleeps in the basement.

Antonio misses Francis and Gilbert.

* * *

It's about lunch time when Francis comes back.

He is, out of the current family, the one who's been around the longest, and if Antonio had to name someone his best friend, he'd honour Francis with the title. The feeling must be mutual, because Francis could have left years ago, but has chosen to stay — something that Antonio is grateful for, because having an extra pair of hands is extremely helpful.

"Need a hand?" is the first thing Francis says when he comes into the house to find Antonio balancing three plates with food.

"Not really, thanks."

Francis' lips curve into an amused smile as he watches Antonio walk with the skill of an experienced waiter, and Antonio thinks he hears him mutter: " _Show-off._ "

"Ivan said you left to investigate," Antonio says. "Found out anything?"

"Nothing concerning Ludwig," Francis sighs, walking behind him. "But I've heard other things."

Antonio hums. It doesn't sound like Francis brings good news with him.

"We'll talk about it when Gil gets back. Meanwhile—"

"When Gil gets back?" Francis cuts in, surprised. "He said he'd stay with the little—oh. Lars?"

"Lars."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

They reach the pool room and Francis rushes to open the door for Antonio. Inside, Feli and Lovi are play wrestling, splashing water everywhere, but stop as soon as they see them.

"Lunch!" they exclaim at the same time, swimming to the edge of the pool and expectantly waiting for Antonio.

"There you go, guys," Antonio smiles, handing them two plates with raw fish.

The boys take their share and start devouring ferociously. A common trait of merfolk: they're gorgeous and sing beautifully, but eat like starved piranhas. Francis pretends to find a crack in the wall very interesting to avoid looking at them.

Antonio doesn't comment, because he knows why his friend shies away from the animalistic behaviour.

"Is that for Mattie?" Feli asks between bites, pointing at the third plate with a nod.

"Yes. Is he here?"

"Yup. I'll get him."

"Thanks."

Feli swallows the last bite — they eat _everything_ , down to the last bone — and submerges. Antonio waits patiently, because even though Matthew knows that he's safe with them, being timid and reserved is part of his nature, and no matter how much he likes Feli or Francis of Antonio himself, he always needs to be persuaded into showing himself.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually the water ripples and a head emerges, blond curls first, followed by a pale face and big, purple eyes. Only what's outside the water adopts a solid shape, the rest of his body merged with the water, and even though Antonio is used to it, he's still a bit creeped out by seeing half a head floating on the water.

"Hello, Matt," he says, softly. "I brought you lunch."

An arm materializes from the water as Matthew reaches for his salad.

"Thank you, Mr. Anton," he mumbles back. "I would have said hello last night, but there was a scary man with you."

Antonio cracks a smile.

_Scary man_.

He needs to remember to say this to Arthur.

* * *

**Nymph**

_Supernatural being associated with the air, seas, wood, water or particular locations or landforms._

* * *

Francis is glad to be back home, and even gladder that Antonio is there. It's always easier to relax when he's around.

They order takeout for them and Ivan, take a nap after eating, play a few card games.

And even though Francis feel relaxed and safe, there's something bothering him.

Francis loves Antonio like a brother. He's been by his side ever since he was turned, through thick and thin, and Francis would trust him with his life. He knows Antonio would never willingly endanger their family.

But he also knows that, although shy, Matthew isn't easily frightened.

The words "scary man" have been replaying in his head for hours before he finally dares to ask.

Antonio only shrugs with his usual nonchalance and says: "I brought someone new with me yesterday. His name's Arthur."

"But he's a grown man?" Francs insists, confused. In all the time he's been with Antonio, they've always looked after young creatures, never adults. They do have two other adults with them, but they're more fleeting allies than anything else. "Is he an Ivan or a Gilbert?"

"Neither," Antonio answers, laughing at the wording of the question. "I'll fill you up when Gil comes back, promise."

"Alright…" he agrees, only a tad begrudgingly. "Where's this Arthur now, though?"

"Sleeping in the basement."

Francis frowns. Why would the new one be sleeping during the day? And why in such a dark and cold place as—? The answer flashes through his mind and his jaw drops. No. No, it can't be. Can it? He looks at Antonio with poorly hidden shock and sees the way his friend's eyes open wide in sudden realization.

The sudden realization that, if Arthur is what Francis fears he is, then things won't go smoothly between them.

"You've got to be kidding me," Francis growls, and before Antonio can stop him, he marches with decision to the basement.

"H-Hey, Fran, wait, he's still—Francis!" Antonio calls as he rushes behind him.

Francis doesn't wait.

He reaches the basement, kicks the door open, turns on the light. There's only one person inside, hanging upside down from a pipe, who hisses at the sudden outburst of light.

"Toni," says Francis, his voice heavy with hardly contained rage. "Did you seriously bring a fucking _bloodsucker_?"

Antonio shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Eh…"

"Oh, Antonio," Arthur interrupts. He has recovered quickly from the surprise entrance and is now looking at them with an amused expression, his eyes narrowed into thin lines due to the light. His grin doesn't even try to hide his fangs, and Francis already knows he's going to want to eviscerate the vampire before he says: "You should have mentioned you had a _dog_."

* * *

**Lycanthrope**

_Human with the ability to shapeshift into a wolf on the night of a full moon._

* * *

Arthur vaguely recalls the Domovoy informing Antonio that a family member had left for a few days. It must have been the werewolf — otherwise, he would have smelled his essence the moment he set foot in the house.

Speaking of smell…

"You should give him a bath," he suggests.

The werewolf growls, enraged; Arthur jumps to the floor and hisses. He hears Antonio's voice — a warning, he thinks, but doesn't pay too much attention. All his senses are focused on the man in front of him, on his white-knuckled fists and the furious gleam in his blue eyes.

The dog holds his gaze without flinching, daring him to attack.

And Arthur can't shy away from such a challenge.

He pounces, covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye. The werewolf is clearly surprised by his speed; Arthur can't help but grin in satisfaction as he takes impulse to strike and—

" _Enough_."

Antonio's commanding voice reverberates in the basement, impossible to be ignored, and suddenly he's standing between them, shielding the dog. Arthur doesn't collide against him only thanks to his quick reflexes, but he's not fast enough to retreat and Antonio closes his hand around his wrist, like an eagle clawing at its prey.

He's fast and he's strong, Arthur thinks. Although not faster or stronger than him.

The werewolf moves, perhaps an attempt to attack, but Antonio's other arm stops him.

"Francis, I said _enough_."

Francis huffs and growls in disapproval, but does take a step back even as he keeps glaring at Arthur. Any other time, Arthur would have mocked him and told him he's being _such a good boy_. He would have offered a treat and yelled ' _fetch_ ' as he fake-threw a ball.

But any other time he wouldn't have Antonio's glare burning into him.

"You're on thin ice," Antonio warns. His voice carries the same threat he gave him when they arrived last night: _If you hurt, harm, or even badmouth a single one of them, I want you to know that I_ can _and_ will _kill you_.

Arthur makes a face, but has the decency to look slightly ashamed.

Better ashamed than afraid, he thinks.

Because he's not going to admit it out loud, but Antonio terrifies him.

Antonio, who can't see well in the dark, who in general terms is slower and weaker than him. It's ridiculous, but it's instinct, and Arthur has learnt to trust his instinct. And if his instinct tells him that yes, Antonio _can_ kill him, then Arthur doesn't want to provoke him more than necessary.

He's wondering if he should voice an apology when something else claims their attention: a loud, shattering noise from upstairs, as if the front door had been smashed open, followed by an enraged scream:

" _Where's that fucking Leprechaun?!"_

The three of them stand still, the almost-fight forgotten, until Francis laughs nervously:

"Looks like Gilbert's back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Antonio doesn't really think things through before he acts :P He needs to tame Arthur to get him to behave ;)


	4. FOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know what's a stupid fucking word? "Hypnotize". Every time I had to write it I ended up writing "hyptonize" instead. What the fuck.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the delay compared to the other chapters. Life's been very weird lately n_n" Hope you like this chapter! I wrote half of it while listening to the Addams family soundtrack and the other half to the sound of early-2000's European pop hits. *thumbs-up*

**ICARUS**

FOUR

Arthur stays in the basement (it's still too bright outside for him to even think of peeking), but instead of going back to sleep, he chooses to listen attentively. His sharp hearing distinguishes Antonio's and the dog's footsteps as they rush to the hall, and the newcomer's loud voice as he calls for the Leprechaun.

"Gilbert, _stop_ ," comes Antonio's commanding voice. "What did I tell you about human-spine whips in the house?"

" _Lars_!" Gilbert hollers. His voice is unnaturally deep. "Come here, you little shit!"

"Gilbert, put that thing away."

"I'm going to kill that Leprechaun!"

"Gilbert, don't make me say it again."

"Where is he?"

"Gilbert, I swear I will play football with your head — _put that thing away_."

The argument goes on in circles, and the more Arthur listens, the more he wonders if accepting Antonio's invitation was a good idea after all.

* * *

**Dullahan**

_A headless rider who carries their own head in their arm._

* * *

It takes a while and a couple of threats, but eventually Gilbert calms down. He's still grumbling as he flops down on the couch, but the murderous intent is gone — as is his whip. Antonio sighs out a heavy breath as he sits beside him. He likes Gilbert, he really does, but the Dullahan has proven to sometimes be even more of a handful than the kids. Francis glances between the two of them before sitting at their feet, resting his head on Antonio's knees.

"I think you've got some explaining to do, Toni," he simply says.

"I do, don't I?" Antonio mumbles, brushing his fingers through Francis' golden locks.

"About what?" Gilbert asks, holding his head in front of Antonio's.

"That's creepy," Antonio protests at the same time as Francis answers: "There's a vampire in our basement."

"Huh." The Dullahan raises an eyebrow. "Is it a hook-up?"

"It's _so not_ a hook-up." He's quick to reply, and even though his voice doesn't betray him, his subconscious sees fit to remind him the way Arthur had looked when he approached him, all confidence and bright green eyes, and he has to admit that he wouldn't mind too much if it _were_ a hook-up.

"Hmm." Gilbert's inhuman eyes gleam with something akin to amused mistrust, like he's read his thoughts, but he doesn't argue. "What's the deal then?" he asks instead, gently depositing his head on Antonio's lap.

"The deal…" Antonio murmurs, carding his fingers through Gil's snow-white hair as he tries to think how to explain it. Ivan jumps onto his lap in cat form, wordlessly manifesting his interest in the topic, and Antonio can't hold back a smile. "I don't have enough hands for the three of you."

Ivan meows indignantly and moves over to Gilbert's lap, where the headless body welcomes him with delicate pets in a weirdly endearing way.

"Toni," calls Francis. "Explain."

"Alright, alright." Antonio clears his throat, then reduces his voice to a whisper when he says: "As you know, Arthur's a vampire. He thought I was human and made me his prey last night."

"'Kay. Why are we whispering?" Gil inquires.

"Because vampires have very good hearing."

His words fall over them, heavy with what's left unsaid, and it's Francis the one who dares to speak it:

"You don't trust him."

"No."

"Then why bring him here?" comes Ivan's raspy voice, his purple eyes burning into Antonio.

Antonio holds his gaze. He knows the Domovoy trusts him as the head of the household — but also that he won't forgive him if he's knowingly brought something dangerous with him.

"He was able to hypnotize me," he says after a beat. "He's powerful. And I'd rather keep him where I can see him."

"He hypnotized you?"

"He hypnotized me, he kidnapped me, and he bit me."

"Wait, he actually _fed_ on you?" There's surprise in Francis' eyes when he looks at him. "Somehow I thought that would kill him, or at least hurt him."

Antonio hums. "I wondered, too. I'd never been bitten by a vampire before. But it doesn't seem to be a problem." He makes a face as he recalls Arthur's words. "Apparently I taste human."

"So you brought him here because you want to keep an eye on him," Ivan muses calmly, "but why did _he_ agree to come?"

"Oh." Antonio's grin is full of mischief now. "That'll be because he's curious."

"About?"

"Me."

"You? He doesn't know what you are?" Gilbert cackles.

"He doesn't. And let's keep it that way. He'll stay for as long as he doesn't know."

Francis hums, interested, and Antonio pinches his cheek.

"I can hear your thoughts — don't you dare."

"Dare what?" the werewolf asks innocently. "Tell him so he'll leave? Never crossed my head."

"Yeah, sure."

Ivan meows; his whiskers tremble. "If he tries to hurt the little ones—"

"I don't think he will," Antonio interrupts him. "But if he does, then I assure you he won't make it out of this house alive."

There's a dark note in Gilbert's chuckle. "Vampires are hard to kill."

Antonio's grin is carefree, but full of confidence.

"Are they?"

* * *

The sun is starting to set when Antonio reaches the creek. The small body of water is secluded and hardly interesting, and no one goes around the area, which is why Emma is allowed to drop by every now and then. She's the oldest of his protegees — hardly a protegee anymore — and she can take care of herself.

He spots her easily — large black horses are hard to miss.

Antonio whistles to catch her attention and laughs when the horse neighs happily. She's by his side in the blink of an eye, and the next second she's adopted human form. And he's expecting the hug, but still topples when she tackles him.

"Antoñuco!" she laughs, hugging him tightly. "I didn't know you were back."

"Came back last night," he replies, hugging back. "Hey, um, out of curiosity, how do you feel about vampires?"

Emma pulls apart to look at him, a curious grin on her lips. "Vampires?" she repeats. "Did you bring a vampire home?"

"Guilty as charged. His name's Arthur; he'll be staying in the basement for a while."

"Oh?" Her smirk grows wider, cheekier. "Did you get yourself a boyfriend?"

"He's not—Why does everyone think that?" Antonio complains.

"We worry about you," she answers, and although she's clearly teasing, there's honesty in her words. At least until she adds: "And lets' be real, I haven't seen you get any in all these yea—"

" _Alright_ ," he interrupts abruptly, shaking his head when she giggles. _Teenagers_ , he thinks in resignation. "Come on, let's go back."

The way back is filled with small talk, an easy chat that Antonio knows he will miss when Emma finally leaves the nest. It will happen sooner or later — she's almost and adult, perfectly self-sufficient, nothing like the helpless child he found many years ago. The only reason she lingers is because she's too fond of Feli, Lovi and Matt (her water babies, she calls them), and Antonio is selfishly grateful for that.

Because he loves her like a daughter, but also because she seems to be the only one who can control Lars and really, that's a blessing.

* * *

**Kelpie**

_Shape-shifting water spirit, usually described as a black horse-like creature, able to adopt human form._

* * *

For the second time in the same day, Arthur is awoken by an external agent.

This one is kinder than an enraged werewolf barging in, which doesn't mean it's pleasant either. It's annoying, like a fly that keeps coming back to flutter around you no matter how many times you smack it away, and as Arthur slowly regains his senses, he realizes how accurate the simile is.

Small, fast wings are flapping near his head, like a hummingbird inspecting a flower, only this hummingbird has tiny, curious hands and a high-pitched, excited voice. Arthur stays still, pretending to be deep asleep, and focuses his senses into pinpointing the creature's exact location; and when he moves, he moves quickly, his hand lashing out and closing around a small body. There's a shrill screech, and although Arthur is being uncharacteristically careful, his grasp his firm enough to hold the creature in place despite its struggling.

"Wanna fight, big guy?"

Arthur grins, cracking an eye open to look at the small being. "Seems to me I've already won, little guy" he replies calmly.

There's a pair of blazing blue eyes glaring at him from behind messy blond hair, and the scowl on that face might have been scary, had the face and the body been a bit bigger.

A fairy, no doubt, although Arthur can't pinpoint exactly which kind.

He might have, a long time ago, he muses absentmindedly. When he was still human.

" _Unfairly_ ," the fairy protests, catching back his attention. "Hey, come on, big guy, lemme go."

"It's not _big guy_ , it's _Arthur_. And what exactly were you doing?"

"Dunno. Checking? I'd never seen a vampire before. Or someone sleeping hanging upside-down from a pipe."

Well, fairies _are_ curious. He remembers that much.

"Don't do it again, little guy," he reprimands with a sigh as he releases the fairy.

"It's not _little guy_ ," the fairy snaps back at him, sticking out his tongue. "It's _Alfred_."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Arthur stops paying attention to the fairy. It seems to be dark outside — not night-time yet, but close enough — and he can hear loud chattering coming from upstairs. If he were to guess, he'd say the whole "family" is having dinner together. Well, the whole family sans the fairy.

"Hey, Arthur? Artie? Can I call you Artie?" the fairy calls. He doesn't like being ignored. "How long have ya been a vampire for? Did the fangs grow through time or was it like, _poof_ , fangs! Can you turn into a bat?"

Maybe he should go upstairs.

"Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

His plan is very simple: let go of the pipe, flip himself around mid-air, land on his feet. Very cat-like, and nothing he can't do. It's standard procedure after having slept in that bat-like manner — he's done it countless of times before. So, really, nothing should go wrong.

Letting go of the pipe is easy.

But when Arthur attempts to turn, there's a strong tug on his ankle that unbalances him, takes him by surprise, and he can't even deduce he's been tied before his face collides with the concrete floor.

It hurts, of course. His nose is most definitely broken. But that pain pales in comparison to what his pride is going through, especially when he hears Alfred's scandalous laughter. It must be quite the sight: the fearsome vampire hanging from his ankle, almost like a helpless deer caught in a hunter's trap, the rest of his limbs falling limp and his face flat against the floor.

His ear twitches when he distinguishes a second laugh joining Alfred's.

Ah.

That must be the famous _fucking Leprechaun_.

Arthur forces himself to count to ten and idly wonders if he could get away with blaming Gilbert for Lars' sudden, tragic and untimely death.

* * *

**Sprite**

_A kind of faery, about the size of large insects, playful and at times obnoxious._

* * *

The two troublemakers have fled by the time Arthur manages to untie himself, which is probably a good thing. He doubts Antonio would have appreciated what he might have done otherwise.

He leaves the basement and when he walks into the living room, he meets the most inhuman looking creature he's ever seen.

He's heard of Dullahan before, of course, but he's never met one in the flesh. This one is dressed all in black, his style not too different from that of biker gangs. His skin is paper-white, as is his hair, and where his neck should be there's a silvery flame. And when the Dullahan looks at him, he does it through dark eyes, two pools of black stark against his pale face, with two bright red pupils floating in the middle.

"Ah, you must be the vampire," the Dullahan says, and although his voice is still deep, it sounds more human than it did before. "I'm Gilbert."

"Yeah, I heard about you," Arthur mumbles back. It feels awkward to stare at someone's chest when you talk to them, but then there's hardly other options when that's where they're holding their head. "Let me ask you real quick — how have you not killed that Leprechaun yet?"

"A lot of patience," Gilbert growls back. "Did he do something to you? Oh, is that why your nose looks like that? Here, let me—"

Arthur doesn't have time to protest before Gilbert grabs his nose and snaps it back in place, although he does manage not to complain aloud at the painful—albeit quick—operation.

"Thanks," he growls. "I guess."

There's noise coming for the kitchen then, and soon the door opens to reveal a young girl who strides towards them with purpose, followed by Antonio.

"Hey, Emma," Gilbert says when she reaches them. "The little shit managed to break this guy's nose."

The girl stops. "Did he?" she mutters darkly, and then she hollers: " _Lars!_ " She's back in the kitchen in the blink of an eye, then she returns with the Leprechaun held firmly in her hand. "What did you do now?" she scolds him.

The Leprechaun has the decency to look a teeny-tiny bit ashamed. "Just a little prank…"

"You broke his nose! That's not _a little prank_." Emma pokes his tiny chest fiercely and then holds him in front of Arthur. "Apologize."

"Uh—"

" _Lars_."

"M'sorry," the Leprechaun mumbles.

"And now apologize to Gil."

"But I already did that before!"

"Then apologize again."

"Ugh." Lars rolls his eyes, but still offers the Dullahan a half-hearted apology.

"That's better," Emma smiles, pushing a golden lock of her shoulder-length hair behind her hear. "Now, back to dinner. Nice to meet you," she says to Arthur.

Arthur doesn't miss the quick exchange of gazes between Emma and Antonio when they cross paths on her way back to the kitchen, a wordless conversation that speaks volumes of the camaraderie between the two. He suddenly feels a little out of place, like when he met Lovino.

It's short-lived, though, because then Antonio asks Gilbert to go lend Francis and Ivan a hand with the little ones, and suddenly it's just the two of them in the living room.

* * *

Antonio smiles apologetically. "I honestly thought it'd take longer for Lars to target you. Sorry."

Arthur hums. "He's too daring for someone so small," he offers back, and Antonio laughs.

"Yes, he is. Can I ask what he did to you?"

There's a dark gleam in Arthur's eyes — either anger or embarrassment, although which one exactly, Antonio can't tell — but he tells him anyway, and Antonio can't hold back his laughter when he finishes.

"You know what? I'm going to call that poetic justice for how you treated me on our first meeting," he grins, a cheeky wink accompanying his words, and he loves that Arthur can't hide his own smile, even as he rolls his eyes in disagreement.

He remembers the way Emma looked at him barely minutes ago, raised eyebrows and an overall expression that he easily interpreted as _Hot damn!_ And she's right. He has fervently denied that Arthur is a hook-up, but he never said he wasn't attractive.

Which he is.

Unfairly attractive.

Antonio still isn't sure how that's going to affect his self-imposed task of keeping an eye on him.

"What does the Leprechaun do to Gilbert anyway?" Arthur asks then.

"Oh, that," he sighs. "Well, the only way to get rid of a Dullahan is showing him a piece of pure gold."

"So?"

" _So_ I have a guy who will automatically flee at the mere sight of gold and a natural prankster who hoards it."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"Having second thoughts about staying?" he asks, more nonchalantly than he feels.

He's not ready for the way Arthur looks at him then, entirely focused, his green eyes bright in the darkened room, so full of will that for a second Antonio fears he's about to be hypnotized again.

But Arthur only grins, his sharp fangs strikingly white, and his voice confident when he says:

"It'll take more than that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, well, no fucking cloue when I'll update again. But give it at the very least a month and a half. Like I said, life is weird lately n_n" But I hope all of you enjoyed the chapter and are safe! :D


End file.
